


I Wish Salty Tears (Were a Little bit Sweeter)

by Suzanne Briggs (thetraveler), thetraveler



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Because I can, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Layton needs a hug, London, Nightmares, Puzzles, and that he's taller than flora, another serving of fluff, lets pretend that luke is like future luke, painful memories, the thames river
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetraveler/pseuds/Suzanne%20Briggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetraveler/pseuds/thetraveler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although he tries to elude it all with puzzles, Hershel can't but notice it around him. The very sight causes him to bring up painfully dear memories, but it's clear that there's no escaping them. No amount of tea, or walks along the Thames, or puzzles, or anything else can keep the heart-strings from tugging.</p><p>or, Luke and Flora are becoming better than friends, which makes the Professor remember, all at once, of the days when he, too, had a sweetheart, his beautiful Claire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A shout-out to a certain Kyle for introducing me to the games, and also to anyone else who supports them, since those little mind-screws on a screen are the best thing ever, after Sherlock Holmes.  
> Keep on being happy y'all :P  
> Oh yeah, and I wish FullMetalZeldaCat a happymoustache of a day for the rest of her life. CUZ SHE DESERVES IT  
> peach out now...

Luke was barely able to resist when he first saw her, in the flesh, in the tower. She was just so beautiful, she almost seemed to glow. It sent a warm tendril snaking through his heart, and shivers up his spine, and a weakness in his knees, and a strength he didn't even know where, and at that moment, Luke Triton knew he was in love. 

Flora liked Luke. He was soft, and smelled nice, and he was funny, and he was warm, and he liked to _listen_. Most people just regarded her as a "lady," and a lady had to be polite, and sit up straight, and be modest, and quiet, and out of the way. They never listened. Luke was different. He seemed to think of her as a person, and though he tried to act genteel, she could see that Luke saw her as just a person. Some may have hated feeling normal, but Flora wasn't one of these folks. She was so used to feeling like an object, that when Luke had come, she liked the new sensation of respect he gave to her. Yes, the Professor had known that she was a treasure, a diamond in the rough per-say, and he treated her nicely and gave her a home, but Luke was the one who seemed to see right through all the polite-ness and femininity, down to... her.

Hershel sat in his office, nursing on a delightful cup of strawberry-mint tea and reviewing a file on the latest feat of Inspector Chelmey, when a crisp knock penetrated the still air. He rose and opened the door to see a cheery Flora on the arm of a very smug Luke. "Hello there, Professor," Layton's apprentice cooed,  tipping his cap in the direction of the archeologist. "Good morning, Luke, Flora. What a pleasant surprise," Hershel responded honestly. He showed his familiar guests to a pair of worn leather seats. They sat back in the chairs, obviously comfotable in this setting. "So," said the professor, "What brings you two here? Do you have a puzzle that needs solving?" Hershel thought they looked awfully complacent to have a puzzle, but it was worth asking. "Oh, no, nothing of the sort. We just thought we'd pop in and say hello." It was Luke who spoke, a grin tickling his lips. Hershel took a sip from his tea-cup and nodded, finding himself smiling. "It was quite a generous sentiment. I hope this encounter contents you as much as it does me." They both nodded with vigour. "Would you two care for a nice cup of tea?" Layton politely requested. Both of the young patrons shook their heads and the archeologist sat back in his arm-chair. "So, tell me, what have the two of you been doing with yourselves on this fine day in London?" Hershel asked in a nonchalant way, though he actually wanted to make sure they'd been safe. Flora piped up, "Oh, Luke and I went for this great walk along the Thames, and then he bought me an ice-cream, and then we took the bus here." The girl's report was credible enough. Hershel vaguely wondered which flavors they got. "How pleasant. It is such a wonderful day for a stroll, I have to admit." Luke smiled and said, "Indeed." The three sat for a moment in an awkward silence, waiting for a conversation topic to present itself. The quiet was broken and the situation saved by a squeak from Luke's bag. Hershel was alarmed for a half-second, but relaxed when the boy brought out a chubby hamster from his satchel. Layton grinned at the sight of the furry creature. "Found another new friend, have we?" "Yes, Professor. I've named him Samuel. Isn't he cute?" Luke reponded, obviously smitten. "Adorable, I'd say," Hershel indulged in the boy's whim. "Where'd you get the little fellow?" Luke glanced up from the hamster, looking right at Hershel. A proud expression passed over his contenance, and he opened his mouth to explian, "Well Professor, I won him at a fair when I solved this one puzzle! Care to hear it?" Hershel coudn't resist. "Absolutely my boy." Luke sat back in his chair for a moment, trying to recall how it ran. It came to him eventually, and he sat forward, grinning as he spoke, "It's worth 25 Picurats, by the way. Alright, so there's this top-notch resturaunt named Luigi's. One day, all of the people eating there got sick. It wasn't from the food or drink, and the workers were all perfectly healthy. What caused them all to get so sick?" Hershel's mind raced, considering all of the variants, until he landed on location. "Ah," he said, "it's simple! Luigi's is on a cruise ship, and all the patrons were seasick." 109463 ticked up to 109488. "Spot on Professor!" Flora smiled and blinked at Hershel, to which he sat back and good-naturedly presented his catch-phrase, "Every puzzle has an answer." Luke stood and helped Flora out of her chair. "Well Professor, it's been great seein' you, but I wanted to take Flora out to see some of the sights of London. So thanks for having us, and we'll see you later!" At this, Flora attached herself to Luke's arm and the pair flitted towards the door. "I hope you two have a nice afternoon," Layton called after them as they exeunt his office. Hershel sat alone in his office once more. He remnisced on the conversation once in his head, then took a swallow of his tea, and picked up right where he left off in the newspaper article. * * *


	2. Chapter 2

Flora clung tightly to Luke's arm; she was a little scared to face the world out there. But if she held onto Luke tight enough, he would protect her, and he would be there to make sure the world didn't knock her down. He was her assurance, he wouldn't let her be flustered by the outside world.  
They walked through the front doors of the University and into the sunny London lane. Turning left, they traveled contentedly up the street. Flora took a risk by resting her head on Luke's shoulder. Her risk wasn't for nothing; the blue-clad boy accepted her action and rested his head on hers. "So, where'd you want to take me?" she asked, since she was really curious. He shifted slightly and answered, "I've been wanting to take someone to this one little cafè next to my house. Would you care to join me?" He slid his hand into hers and clasped it in a strong, but not stiff, grip. Flora tensed a fraction, but then relaxed. "I'd be honored," she answered in a more measured tone than she expected herself to. "Then, shall we head that way?" Luke asked  
"Yes," Flora answered. "But feel free to take the long route. I'm enjoying this."

 

Hershel made a final check around his office, to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He was about to turn around and head out, when his eyes fell on a portrait of him and Claire. He stopped, and gazed at the image. It was a gift from her, a slide puzzle that she'd had made for him as a birthday present. He solved it within a matter of minutes, of course, but the thought was incredibly sweet. Hershel remembered that when the picture was taken, and how he could feel the warmth of her body pressed to his. It was one of those moments where you knew you'd never be able to forget the way it felt, the type of moment you experienced a lot in your golden, sweet, youthful days. Hershel knew for sure that he'd never forget the way it felt, during that 20 seconds of smiling for the camera. He turned away and left the room, trying to keep the tear (from an eyelash, he told himself,) from trailing down his cheek. He took a deep breath, and let it all go, shoving his painful memories to a drawer somewhere in the back of his brain, though he refused to forget where he'd put the thoughts of Claire and her warmth.

 

Luke sipped from the hot chocolate he'd ordered for himself. It was rich, almost too rich for his tastes, but it was tasty all the same. He glanced across the candle-lit table to Flora. God, she was so pretty. Luke smiled at her, trying to notice and memorize every single detail of her face. Flora was telling something about the lack of cars in St. Mystere, and he was vaguely paying attention, understanding how she could be so confused with the machines. Though he was barely paying any heed to her words (and instead was focused on her,) it reminded him of this one puzzle about cars, so he dealt it across the table for her to solve. He watched her figure it out, taking very little time at all (much less than Luke had at first,) and he congratulated her whole-heartedly.  
She blinked up at him, taking a sip from her french vanilla latte. "Look at the sunset!" she looked a bit to the right of Luke and he turned to witness the peach and magenta sky Flora was speaking of. "Wow..." Luke allowed himself to comment. He turned back to Flora, and muttered, "It's nearly as beautiful as you," to which she giggled and shook her head. "No, no, I'm not nearly as pretty as that there."  
"yes, you are...." Luke whispered under his breath. "Waiter? The check please?" he flagged the host and handed him 20£ in hopes that it was enough. The waiter nodded and accepted the money, pulling a few coins from his pocket. "Your change, sir?" the man plunked them down on the table. "Yours to keep, sir! It's the tip!" Luke generously replied, to which the waiter nodded and slipped off. "Shall we?" Luke stood and helped Flora up. They clasped hands, and left the little resturaunt, plunging into the London twilight.


	3. Chapter 3

Hershel clicked his key into the lock of his flat. The door opened, and he trudged into the room, shedding his coat to the hanger and setting his papers on the cluttered thing he called his desk. He'd just settled into a long night of grading essays about the Stonehenge, when he heard a click and a creak, seeing the door slightly ajar. He was about to get up and investigate, when he heard a voice, "Goodnight, Flora. I had a nice day today with you." It was Luke, who's farewell was followed by a softer, higher response from Flora, "Goodnight Luke. I also had fun today. Thank you for the latte and sandwich and ice-cream." Hershel could hear the tension as (he assumed) Flora set a tiny kiss on Luke's cheek. "Uh, you're welcome. Th-thank you for...." the dizzy boy trailed off, unable to find words. Layton knew the feeling himself, from the many times Claire had done it to him. Oh, Claire... The memories returned, and in a great blast, Hershel just endured and withstood and savored the pain of his past and the girl that was all of it.  
**************************

 _"Oh, Hershel dear, you have an eyelash. Make a wish!" She reached up and removed the small hair from his cheek, placing it on his fingertip. "But what am I to wish for," said Layton, "since I have all I could ever need or want already?"_  
************************

 _"Claire, darling, what do you say to a stroll along the Thames?" The sun was beginning to set, and Hershel wanted to get to the river before it was too late; the proposal wouldn't be perfect if the timing was off. "Oh, Hershel, I'd love to, but I can't at the moment. This puzzle is giving me greif." The Professor floated over to where she was lounging on his couch. "Well, let me have a peek." The two spent the next hour thinking of every possible solution, since there were 24 different answers..._  
************************

 _"Here, Hershel, I got you something. Happy Birthday!" The cover came off the box, and a black silk top hat sat, begging to be worn by the gentleman sitting in front of it. "Here, put it on!" She picked it up by the brim and swapped it for the cap on Hershel's head. "There we go. You look like a proper gentleman." Claire giggled. "Oh, is that the time? I'm sorry, I'll have to go now, Dimitri's running this big test today, and he said I need to be there. I'll see you tonight, dear." She blew him a kiss and was out the door. "I'll ask her tonight," Hershel vowed to himself, "I will propose to her tonight."_  
***********************

 

Luke was dumbstruck as he dazedly stumpled home from the Professor's house. The stars were depicting his emotions perfectly, all twinkly and bright and cheerful. Luke's hand and cheek were tingling where there had been contact with Flora. He knew he'd never forget the moment of collision, her soft lips glancing his round cheek. It was truly magical, if ever a better connotation existed. Luke reached his front door and slipped inside quietly. Careful not to disturb his slumbering parents, he ducked into his bedroom, silently shutting the door and swapping his clothes for pyjamas. He crawled into bed and began to dream wonderful fantasies about Flora Reinhold.

~

Flora awoke the next morning with an expressionless Professor Layton standing at her bedside. Lets see, what was it she'd done yesterday again? Oh. Right. Luke. "Good morning Flora. Did you pass the night well?" Hershel asked, smiling like he knew exactly the sort of night that had transpired for Flora. She nodded, rubbing the remaining sleep from her large eyes, trying to avoid the questions by providing minimal answers. The Professor started again, "good, good. Did you have a nice day out with Luke yesterday?" Flora again moved her head up and down. "Ah, well, that's all. Will you be ready to breakfast in ten minutes?" To this, she slumped back down to the assurance of her warm bedsheets and muttered, "Sure."


	4. Chapter 4

Luke's eyes sputtered open, and he slid his bare feet from under the sheets onto the wood floor of his bedroom. He sat up, still rather tired from his late home-coming. What was it that made him get home so late again? Oh. Right. Flora. The memory set his palm and face on fire again, and he smiled,  although he knew he'd be unable to let the grin go for the rest of the day. He fluttered downstairs, rather joyous with the memories of the day before.  He greeted his parents boldly and gently settled down into a chair at the table, until he noticed their faces. The insuperable grin didn't dissapear, but it flattened considerably. "Um, what's wrong?" Their gazes of daggers both blinked simultaneously, as Luke's father growled, "Son, where were you last night at 9:00? Because you certainly weren't here in bed at home." Luke flinched, swallowed, and replied, "I was over at the Professor's; we'd gone out for the day together." He knew they'd see right through his lies, but the truth would probably make them even more upset than a fib. To his great suprise, however, his parents bought into the little fabrication, and Luke could keep the beautiful Flora a secret from them for another day. He grinned again, and tucked into the bowl of oatmeal that had appeared when he'd explained his absence to his parents.

 

Hershel stumbled to the kitchen, trying to face the day instead of mourn the night. He hadn't slept well the previous midnight, and his normal slumbers (only usually slightly tainted by Claire,) this night was full of memories, and not even the good ones at that. It'd begun- that night -with her funeral. Hershel had woken with damp cheeks, gasping through the sobs. But that was just the beginning; once he'd finished crying and had gotten (somehow) back to sleep, Claire had visited his dreams again. She'd blinked at him from across a candle at her favorite table in her favorite resturaunt, laughing that musical twinkly noise at one of his jokes. But suddenly, she couldn't stop the giggling, and the joke wasn't that funny. The musician playing in the back-ground stopped and ran, as did the waiters, as did the customers. Something was terribly wrong, terribly horribly wrong, as she lost control and began to chortle, a mean, shrill sound that had surpassed laughter. She was getting bigger now, filling up the room with her cruel peal of sound. And then, she ripped off her face, revealing underneath a mustache and horn-like bundles of hair, the laughter still loud and uncomfortable, even after its true owner was unveiled. And then Hershel was falling.... he'd landed forcefully on his bed, thrashing and awake. But those weren't the ends of his troubles either. In the next nightmare, he'd relived the scene of her death, holding back a young and fighting Clive. He awoke after that, and instead of facing another bad dream, he sat up in his too-big-for-one-person bed, and wept the remainder of the night away, scrubbing away tears that weren't meant to be part of the young man's life just yet but were anyways.

 

Flora was anxious to get back to Luke, so she ate quickly and made sure all her chores were finished for the day much earlier than usual. She mamaged to get everything done and taken care of by 10:00, which was deliciously early. Flora knew the next part wouldn't be that simple. She strolled up to Layton from behind. He was scribbling madly on some poor girl's paper, and as much as she wanted to let him work, she needed to interupt his careful editing. "Um, Professor?" she asked, and he turned from his work, looking expectant. "I-I was wondering if I could go and play with Luke again today...?" He smiled and nodded, expressing, "Naturally my dear. But try to be home before 10:00 this time. You have a curfew for a reason, you know." Flora nodded and smiled, skipping off to go put on her boots. She'd done it! The hard part of the whole business was over. Now she could spend more time with her sweet, handsome, wonderful Luke. Once she'd laced up her shoes, and put on her gloves, and all the sort of stuff that ladies do before going someplace, she clacked back over to Hershel, put a hand on his sholder, and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Professor," she whispered, lingering for a moment by his temple before slipping away and meeting her sweetheart.


	5. Chapter 5

Hershel looked up from his essay as she clicked away from his desk, the kiss still lingering damply on the edge of his forehead. He slowed himself down, counting his blinks, his breath, his heartbeats. His eyes fell on a picture of himself with Luke and Flora, and he realized just how blessed he really was. Luke he loved more than anything, and Flora was like a daughter to him, ever since she'd been trusted to his custody. Frankly, he thought of them as a reason to live. Those children were one cause for him to continue, (to bear with the pain after _her_ death,) was to care for them, and offer them any broken comfort he might have, in this world so large and lonely and frightening. Hershel selected and replayed his favourite memory of them; a visit to the British Museum, where he'd showed them the new exhibition on the Parthenon sculptures. They passed through years of history, into the crowded stone room, with walls from the Greeks. As the children entered the room, their normal, cheery faces were replaced with masks of astonishment. Eyes wide, they stumbled to the edge of the room to admire it. Repeated "woah"s were all that could be heard from the pair. "Do you like it?" Hershel asked redundantly. They both nodded, awestruck, their jaws wide ajar. This was one of those moments again, one that wouldn't be forgotten. Hershel felt like a father, and a good father at that, having brought them both such joy. He smiled and squeezed Luke's and Flora's shoulders in gentle embrace.

And then Hershel was sitting at his desk, pen in hand, with  a student's essay in front of him, and a soggy mark on his temple. He blinked and shook himself out of the daydream, focusing again on the writing.

 

 Flora searched desperately for Luke; he said he'd meet her here, in front of the tower!! Where was he?! She allowed the concern of her feelings to show on her face, as she looked for the boy in blue. Her large brown eyes scanned the crowd for the umpteenth time, still unable to find Luke. Maybe he was playing some sort of joke. How rude of him to--

And then she spotted him, across the street, searching in the same, lost, desperate manner. Her stomach did a somersault, and with a grin she started towards the lad. She made her way through the throngs of people to the crossing, and waited for the cars to finish zooming by. The light eventually changed, and she speedily voyaged over the pavement. And there he was. He'd still not noticed her yet, so she let the flow of the crowd drag her a bit further away before turning off. Moving to the other lane, Flora wrapped back around the spot of her lover, and snuck up behind him. She slipped her thin arms around him, and he tensed and turned around. "oh, Flora," he sighed, relaxing again. "There you are. I've been looking for you!" Luke accused.

Flora grinned. "I know you have." He embraced her in his warm arms, and he parked a kiss on her nose.

"Well, where were you then? Hmm?" She reached her fingers under his cap and played with his bristly hair.

"I was looking for you," she giggled. He moved his hands to her shoulders and held her away from him.

"Flora, shall we get out of the sidewalk?" he whispered softly into her ear. She nodded, and the two linked arms, continuing down the sidewalk. "So," said Luke presently, "did you have a nice night last night?" Flora slid her hand down his forearm and interlocked fingers with him. "Fabulous." she replied. "And yourself?" Luke glanced down with those deep eyes of his, contemplating what he should respond with. "I also had a great night with you. When I got home, I had to sneak in, so that my parents wouldn't catch me. Once I got in though, I went to bed. I slept like a baby." "So waking up every two hours bawling then?" Flora joked.

Luke smiled. "Not quite."

 

The grass that met with Luke's skin was scratchy, and it tickled, but he was fine with it, because Flora was there, and she tickled him in a different, sensational, tingly way. They lay together on the bank of the Thames, the wind coursing through their hair, and love coursing through their hearts. Luke had told her about the delicious taste of the word "us" on his tongue, and she'd told him about how much she agreed. Then they'd pulled over and laid in the grass, flirting with their hands and silencing each other with kisses. Her manicured fingernails outlined his jawline, and his backbone quivered, goosebumps sprouting on his skin. Luke returned the chilling movement by nuzzling the place where her neck became shoulder, kissing and nibbling the area gently. Flora sighed contentedly, and he considered his mission to be accomplished. He stared at Flora as the sun rained down on their backs, glinting from their already-bright eyes. Flora swept her lovely smile across the small gap between Luke's lips, and he leaned forward, pressing his mouth to hers forcefully. "Luke," she gasped once they'd broken away, "Luke, I have to tell you something." The boy propped himself on his elbow and stared deeply into her sparkling eyes. "Yes?" he demanded. Flora looked distantly to the left for a moment, before returning his gaze. "Luke, the Professor has caught onto us, but it's almost like he wants us to be in love. It just doesn't.... settle well with me..." Luke thought about this for a minute. It did seem a little peculiar. Now it was his turn to look the other way in calculation. "Flora, darling, I think that he knows he can trust us, so he's letting it go. But we can't give him any reason to believe otherwise, so tonight I'll get you home sooner." Luke grinned and plucked her cheek gently. She accepted that as an answer for the time being, and they set off again to fantasy-land. 


	6. Chapter 6

After a little longer in the prickly grass, Flora and Luke departed from the river bank and strolled about the city. They'd rambled through most of the Western edge of London, occassionally stopping so that Luke could buy her roses, or a pastry, or so that they could duck into an alleyway. Flora found that they were doing the latter rather often, sliding from the grip of the sidewalks to hold each other closer and reunite their awarenesses into a big mess of lipstick and muffled giggles. And then, they were off again, clinging to each other through crowds and relying on the strenght of the other to propel them along. Eventually, though, the day concluded in a brilliant gloaming sunset. They meandered 'till they saw the stars, then began a deliberately lagging stroll to the Professor's flat.

"Luke?" Flora asked lightly.

"Yes, m'lady?" he peered down at her in the twilight, his dark eyes on fire. She gazed into them a moment before responding.

"I um... I think I love you," she sputtered. To which Luke stopped in his tracks, took a deep breath, and passionately crushed his lips to hers in the moonlight. This was the kiss of all kisses, the grand finale of the evening, and Flora knew it had moved on from the sweet nothings in the grass earlier that day. It wasn't only in the way his lips traveled over hers, or the pressure of them there, but she could see it in other places too. Luke's eyebrows were creased together in genuine dedication, and his entire body was intensely rigid. Then, they just... lived. When they finally broke away, both of them were panting.

"Flora, I have been in love with you from the second I first saw you in that crickity old tower in the middle of St. Mystere. To hear you say that makes me the happiest person ever. I'm not even sure how I can feel any more in love with you, but I do." He kissed her again, briefly, and then took her hand and gently tugged for her to follow. Flora, of course, obeyed, resting her head on his shoulder and fancying she could hear his heartbeat.

"We still have to get you home though, so I'm afraid that I'll have to leave you 'till the morning..." The poor lad sounded heartbroken at the very thought. 

"Oh, don't worry Luke, I'll see you tomorrow!" she tried to encourage as they rounded the corner to the Professor's. Flora spun around and smacked her face onto his, and he staggered slightly in suprise before returning the flavor. "Goodnight, my sweet Luke. I love you" was all she said before snapping her key into the lock and sliding inside the apartment, leaving the blue-clad boy blushing and woozy.

 

 

 Hershel felt truly genteel, in his suit and bowtie, with his top-hat cleaned and his shoes polished, and his wonderful Claire filling his arms. He tried to keep the beat, swinging the beautiful woman in his arms round the poshly decorated ballroom. And she was absolutely glowing; a true wonder to behold. From her glittering stilettos right up to her cascading ochtre waves of hair, Claire (his Claire) looked like royalty. Hershel was sure there were not enough positive words in the world to give her appearancen appropriate a name. Hersel made a mental note to fix that once he found the time. For now, he could focus on nothing else but the gorgeous thing that was pressed against him. They twirled in the light of the party, adding their own fire to the vibrance of the ball.

"Hershel, I lo-" she began, but the sentance remained incomplete, her warm body yanked swiftly from his. But she kept on stumbling backwards; soon she was but a mere speck in Hershel's line of sight. He strained to see her, loudly disrupting the gathering by shouting her name, knowing deep down that the dream was over, but trying to outdo the coming nightmare all the same. Hershel refused to succumb to the terror, and instead of bearing through a painful memory, he woke himself up and gulped back a handful of salty tears. This would not be a repeat of last night. Hershel had to stay strong now. Yesterday had been his tearful solitude; repeating it would just be pointless and the tears would lose their vale. He inhaled, and exhaled, and inhaled again, breathing out once more to his bedroom chamber. Strong. Hershel let his mind drift to Luke, knowing it would cheer him up. He could picture the child's bright young face, and Hershel permitted the animation in his head to overtake his conscience. The blue mind-puppet danced and laughed and wondered and leapt and twirled until it had entertained the poor Professor numb, lulling him gently to a dreamless slumber.

 

 

Luke stood at the bus-stop the next morning and straightened his composure. He wanted to- no, he needed to look presentable for Flora. If he was imperfect for her, then she might think differently of him, and if she didn't love him, how could he bear? The thought was enough to send his spirits plummeting. Luke fixed his feelings by writing a puzzle about Flora. A girl named Flora fell in love with a boy named Luke. Luke bought her a dozen roses, 6 carnations, and 3 orchids. If she gave him a kiss for every rose, 2 kisses for each carnation, and 3 kisses per orchid, how many smooches did young Luke recieve from Flora?  Thirty-three kisses was a lot. A lot of kissing might lead to a lot of trouble... Luke mused. The puzzle cheered him up, if nothing else, and he stood grinning paitiently for the bus. His peace, however, was interrupted by a small squeak from the boy's satchel. Luke froze; that's what had gone wrong. He knew there was something he'd overlooked yesterday while basking in Flora's beauty, but he couldn't see far enough through his own devotion to realize that it was Samuel. He sprang to life, unbuckling the clasps and scooping out the exhausted hamster. The red double decker bus screeched to a halt, finally having arrived at the stop, and Luke, clasping the furry creature firmly near his chest, boarded the bumbling vehicle. He dug in his pocket for some coins and sprinkled them into the driver's hands, finding a seat near the window. "Oh, Samuel, what have I done to you?" Luke murmered. The animal just gazed up at him in a weak sort of way and blinked slowly. He rooted around in his bag for something-anything- he could feed the rodent, locating only a small packet of oyster crackers. "I hope this'll do boy..." Luke doubtfully uttered, opening the wrapping and offering it to the hamster. The hamster himself (predictably) ate the chip ravenously, finishing it off in seconds. He squealed for more, and Luke poured the remainder of the crackers into his palm and fed it to the creature promptly. That too took very little time to polish off, and the pet looked rather more content, and as the bus neared the boy's stop, he set the mongrel back into his bag gently and departed from the bus, glad to have solved his problem.


End file.
